Please, Love Me
by justabandgeek
Summary: America has been planning on proposing to England for a long time. When he finally starts to work up the courage, will England agree to marry him?
1. Chapter 1: The Proposal

Chapter 1: The Proposal

~America's POV~

I smile, sauntering over to England. He had his nose buried in his book. I position myself behind him, holding my hands behind my back innocently. He turns around, looking at me with wide eyes.

"How the bloody hell did you even get into my house!?" he shouts.

I put the key to his house in my back pocket, shrugging slightly. "The door was just open." I say, sitting on the arm of his fluffy sofa chair. "Do you want to get some coffee with me? M-maybe go swimming?" I was very nervous about this, afraid that either he would deny me, or tell me that he didn't like me in the same way that I liked him.

Quirking one of his bushy eyebrows, he asks, "Why?" he has a light shade of pink brushed on his cheeks. "You want to go with… Me?"

I nod, slinging my arm over his shoulders. "I would be so happy if you would join me today."

He forces himself not to smile. "Alfred, I'd love to come with you." He stands up, and my arm falls to my side.

I stand up, grinning from ear to ear. "Okay! Grab what you want for the beach." I announce. I watch him go to his room, and then scream a cheer silently.

~England's POV~

I frown at myself in the mirror. I looked awful. I touch my cheek, noticing that my freckles were being as noticeable and ugly as ever. I growl at my reflection, moving away from the mirror. I chance out of my pajamas, and into my British Flag swimming suit. I pull a light blue tank top over my head, and slide on my flip flops.

I leave my room; surprised when America was nowhere to be seen. I look out of my window, seeing that he was waving from the inside of his fancy convertible. It was obviously American made, but it was actually… Beautiful.

I head over, opening the passenger's door and taking a seat on the plush seats. I lay against the seat with a huff, not wanting America to see my pleasure of how comfortable the seat was.

~America's POV~

I turn to England, putting a pair of sunglasses on him. "Ready to go, sweetie?" I ask with a smirk.

"I'm not your 'sweetie', idiot."

My smile fades. "Okay… Sorry…" I apologize, not wanting to ruin things between us. "Do you want coffee?" I ask as I start to drive. "O-or tea?" I mumble, my hands starting to shake with nervousness.

"No thank you." He says simply, taking one of my hands off the steering wheel and interlacing our fingers. "Calm down. I'd prefer to actually make it to the beach rather than going for a visit to the emergency room."

I scoff. "Meanie!"

We drive the rest of the way in silence. I pull my car into the sand, getting out. I grab the beach towel and basket. "Come on, Prince Arthur." I laugh, balancing the towel and basket in one hand and picking up England with the other.

I carry them to a very quiet place on the beach and set them down. Spreading out the blanket, I smile to myself at how well things were going. England sits down next to me on the towel. I offer a smile. "Would you like to go swimming?" 

"How about we go for a walk instead." He suggests, taking my hand again.

I help him up, and we both take off our shoes. We start to walk along the shore, getting sand in between our toes. "I hope you want to get wet, too."

"Are you trying to be a perve-"

I splash him with the cold sea water, laughing at his surprised and twisted expression. "Who's the idiot, now?" I chuckle, crossing my arms proudly.

He growls, crouching down and splashing me back. He snickers. "You are."

"This means war!" I cheer, splashing him some more.

He follows my lead, and before we know it, we are soaking wet. I sweep him off his feet, despite his struggling. I run deeper into the ocean, twirling him around.

Arthur looks into my eyes, smiling. I lean in slowly, closing my eyes as our lips get closer.

"Honhonhon! Amerique! Angleterre!" France calls to us from the sand.

I pull away from England, setting him down. We go over to France, blushing madly.

"I missed you, Angleterre." France sighs, taking both of England's hands. "I got you a present!" He exclaims suddenly.

I watch as France kneels down in front of England. It takes me a second to slowly put the pieces together. My heart shatters as France presents the ring, and England grins and hugs him tightly. I put my hands into my pockets, fingering my ring for England. A single tear slides down my face, unnoticed because I was so wet.

I take a step back, clutching my ring. "Congrats!" I tell them with fake happiness.

England and France smile at me, and continue the walk that I started. I walk back to our picnic, sitting on the blanket in solitude. I look at the basket, knowing that England would have denied my offer anyway. I open the basket, pulling out a sweatshirt for Artie. I set it next to his discarded shoes.

"Good thing I brought an extra jacket…" I whisper.

I look at the sunset, bringing my knees to my chest. "I knew that you loved sunsets…" I sniff, pulling out an MP3 player. "I even picked out your favorite music to give to you…" I set it on top of the sweatshirt, trying to keep my tears back. "I bet you don't remember this, but this is the d-day you f-found me… I-I was going t-to a-ask you to marry me… M-marry and idiot…" Lastly, I set the ring on his sweatshirt, letting my tears finally flow as the sky starts to become dark and lonely.

I sob. "Like me… The sky is just like me…"

**A.N.: Hello friends! This is my first fanfiction, and I would really appreciate reviews! Constructive criticism is always welcome, but please be nice about it ^^ thank you for reading, and I'll try to get the second chapter up as soon as I can! **

**~JustABandGeek**


	2. Chapter 2: Realization

Chapter 2: Realization

~England's POV~

I wake up the next morning, cuddled up to France on his beach towel. I lean over and kiss him to wake him up. "Can we go now? It's really cold out here…" I shiver, my teeth starting to chatter.

"Oui. Let's go." He picks up his things, holding me close. "We can get you some warm tea along the way to get you warmed up."

Something about tea brings a thought to mind. America… America! I had just left him yesterday! After I almost… kissed him… Then I ran away with France. I came to spend time with my former colony, to have fun, and I'm sure that he wanted the same thing.

"I actually have a few things to do… I'll meet you at your house when I'm done, okay?"

He nods, blowing me a kiss. "Sure thing. I'll be waiting to see your beautiful face again!" he flirts, smiling at the reaction that he gets out of me.

I could feel my face darkening into a deep blush. I squeak, turning on the balls of my feet and running down the beach to the isolated area where America and I had chosen for our spot. When I got there, America's car is gone, but all of his things are still lying in the sand.

I crouch down, putting on my flip flops. I pick up a sweatshirt, pulling it over my head. Oh how warm it was… 'Thank you, America…' I think to myself. Something falls onto the beach towel. I pick it up to see that it is a fairly new MP3 player. I look through the songs curiously, surprised to see that they were all of my favorites. I put it in the jacket's pocket, feeling something inside. I pull it out, my jaw dropping. It was… a ring…

"You… Were going to propose… too?" I mumble, still shocked. "And I ran off without even saying goodbye…" I choke up, feeling terrible. I slide the ring on above France's touching it carefully. "I'm so sorry…" I put the blanket inside the empty basket, running toward the road in hopes to hail a taxi.

~America's POV~

I lay in my chair, surrounded by tissues, chocolate and depressing chick flicks. I take a bite of a chocolate bar, sniffing and very quickly falling into a restless sleep.

I wake up to the sound of wrappers and tissues being thrown away. A blanket is spread out on me. I look toward the kitchen, seeing England. My lip starts to quiver, and I cover my head with the blanket. He obviously notices.

"America? Are you awake?" he asks, coming over.

I peek out of the blanket, yawning. "Hi!" I say happily, smiling at him.

"Hi…" he gives me a quizzical look.

I cough fakely. "I cought a little cold from being outside and wet…" All night…

He nods slowly. "W-would you like to be my byes man for the w-wedding?"

I stiffen. "I actually… No thanks… I don't want to be a bother on your special day. You need to be stress-free." I cough again.

I knew he was only inviting me out of pity. He only felt bad for me. I didn't want to take pride out of being chosen for an apology.

"America, you're not sick. Stop being a git and come to the wedding. I can see it in your eyes that you want to come." He smiles confidently.

I look down, noticing his hand. My eyes start to widen as I see that he was wearing my ring… On top of France's… "It's wrong to wear a ring on top of your wedding ring…" I mutter.

"Shut up."

I stick my lip out, crossing my arms.

"Propose to me."

"Wha-" I start.

"Propose."

"YOU'RE ENGAGED! I'M NOT GOING TO PROPOSE!" I shout, dumbfounded that he'd even suggest it.

He grabs my shirt collar, pressing his lips to mine. I struggle, pushing him away.

"Idiot." He mumbles.

"You're engaged. I'm not going to ask you when France already got your yes."

He growls. "Fine. Don't come to our wedding. I. Hate. You." The three words ring over and over in my ears.

"B…But…"

He sets the ring on my blanket. "Don't you dare ever talk to me again."

I watch in both sadness and shock as he leaves. I choke up in tears, bawling my eyes out. "I can't even be your friend now…?" I whimper. "I didn't even do anything wrong…"


	3. Chapter 3: Accident

Chapter 3: Accident

Three weeks later, I was still struggling with losing my best friend. At least that's what I'd thought we were… I walk into the meeting room, sitting next to England and France.

"Bonjour, Amerique!" France exclaims, greeting me with a kind smile.

I nod to him, clenching my fists in an attempt to keep myself from crying.

England turns to me. "Have you been eating? You look very skinny…"

I nod again, but it was a lie. I couldn't even remember the last time I had eaten. No one cared, why bother? My best friend hated me, and no one even tried to comfort me.

"Say something, wanker."

I shake my head. I couldn't talk to him. He told me not to, why disobey? I look hungrily at the hamburger miraculously placed in front of me. I frown, forcing myself to pick it up and through it in the waste basket. I sit back in my seat as the meeting begins.

England stands up. "France and I are getting married tomorrow. You're all welcome to come. Except you." He glares at me, a hint of misery in his eyes.

I look away, nodding quickly. My eye twitches as England kisses France's cheek as he sits down. I grind my teeth, exploding inside. I get up, screaming.

"You know what?! I don't even want to come to your damn wedding! You're only trying to make me feel bad! Guess what?! You've been hurting me worse and worse every single day since the Revolutionary War! I thought you were a kind and sweet person, but really all you are is SHIT! I was so excited to propose to you, and you run off with Francey Pants over there! I'm dead inside. You can't hurt me more than what you've already done. Just stop…" I tear up, running out of the meeting room and speeding away in my car.

I slam on my brakes as my car starts to lose control. I hear the sound of tires skidding, and I black out.

I open my eyes to a blinding white. White everywhere. Did I die? I look over to see all of the machines I was hooked up to. I lay against the pillow, looking at the visitor chairs and then at the window. No one had come for me… or left me anything. My throat constricts when I see the electronic calendar and clock on the wall. It was England's wedding day. Well past midnight, really. He was France's now. I would never get him… All he cared about was France, anyway…

A doctor comes into the room with a clipboard. "How are you feeling?" he gives me a pitiful look. "I'm afraid that you have some broken bones and some skull fractures." He says, adjusting my tubes and such.

"Did anyone come to visit me?" I ask, a hint of hope in my voice.

"No. Would you like for me to phone someone in the morning?"

I shake my head, looking down.

The doctor nods, leaving the room. I look at my casts. There was one on my arm and one on my leg. I had bandages wrapped around my head and chest. Bruises scatters all across my skin. I let out a deep sigh, looking toward the chairs again.

"Thanks for caring, England." I sniff. "It meant a lot to me when we were friends. I planned out my proposal perfectly… and now you hate me because I thought you loved me the same way… I honestly don't know why you hate me." I sob. "I just… Messed up… I wish the car just killed me. I don't want to be here without you… Even having you as a friend is better than you not wanting to even see me. But I'm alive, and… alone. And you don't even care." I wipe away some tears, looking at the empty chairs. "I'm sorry I was such a waste of your time all of those years. You should have just left me out there when you found me…"

I close my eyes, falling into a deep sleep. I dream of my childhood.

I peek through the bushes. The two men were fighting. I go over, looking up at the shorter haired one, tugging on his pants. "Don't fight!"

He picks me up, smiling at me. I smile back brightly, hugging him. "I'm America!"

My mind starts to fast forward to the Revolution. "I thought you were great…"

My eyes shoot open, and I force myself to look at the chairs again. France. France was sitting there… For me… He looks up, coming over and taking my hand. "You've been asleep for about two weeks now… The doctors found that you have a stomach tumor. You have cancer, America."

I look at him, not even flinching. "Oh."

"Oh? You're going to die!"

"Okay. That's fine." I sniff. "How was your wedding?" I ask, changing the subject.

"Great! England was beautiful." He begins to describe what England was wearing and how the wedding went. I close my eyes in an attempt to imagine myself in France's place during the wedding. I open them again as he comes to a finish. My eyes are teary.

~France's POV~

I notice America's wet eyes, and I wipe his tears away with a tissue. "He won't come… I've begged and pleaded... He doesn't know about the cancer though." I sigh.

"I understand. I'm just a waste of time. I don't want to bother him." He yawns, looking tired.

Tilting my head, and tell him sincerely, "You're not a waste of time. You're perfect just the way you are."

He laughs sourly. "If I were perfect, I wouldn't be dying. I would still have my big brother. I would be wanted." He looks away, tears filling his eyes and spilling down his cheeks.

My eyes start to water as well, and I hug him. He squirms, not wanting my embrace. "America." I say. "Please… I need you. I can't imagine the world without you. You always had a smile on your face. It cheered everyone up when you would walk into a room. You can't just give up on life because of one obstacle."

He huffs, crossing his arms. "I don't believe you. Everyone made fun of my weight. Everyone scoffed when I came up with an idea. No one bothered to wish me a happy birthday for the past three years and now even my own brother wants nothing to do with me. I welcome death. It will be much easier than life." He starts to close his eyes, slurring the last words and falling asleep.

I hurry home to convince England to see his little brother before he died.

"England!" I yell, anxiously. I find him in our bedroom, reading. I lay next to him, playing with his hair.

"'Ello, love." He looks over to me, giving me a small smile. "Where have you been?"

"The hospital."

He sighs. "Again?"

"He woke up today. He feels abandoned… He needs you…" I whisper, caressing his cheek.

"No. I'm not going."

I frown, picking him up. "Yes you are." I stuff him in the car, driving him straight to the hospital.

"FRANCE! I SAID NO!" he screeches, hitting me on the back of the head.

I pull into the parking lot, looking over at him. "He has stomach cancer. He thinks you hate him. You need to help him. Make him happy for the time that he's still here because he's going to die…"

England expression softens. "He's… Going to die…?"

**A.N.: Please review! Thanks for reading!**


	4. Chapter 4: Reunion

Chapter 4: Reunion

~England's POV~

I force myself not to tear up as France gives me a small nod of his head. "Would you like some time alone with him?" he asks softly, taking my hand.

"Yes…" I take my hand back, getting out of France's car and heading through the automatic sliding glass doors of the hospital. I go up to America's room, opening the door slowly. I see America look up, and he cringes and looks back into his lap.

"Hello, America." I say, walking over.

He looks up at me through his blonde locks of hair. I brush it out of his face, looking into his lifeless blue eyes. He squirms uncomfortably. "What do you want?" he asks almost harshly.

"I came to see you, poppet."

He scoffs. "France forced you, didn't he…?"

"No, I chose to come and see you in your time of need." I lie, pulling over a chair and sitting down next to him.

"Liar…" he turns away, taking a shaky breath.

I sigh softly. "Please talk with me, sweetie…"

He turns over again. "Why? I'm just a child. Go talk with France. You sure love him." He mutters.

"You're my little brother. I love you, too." I smile. "I'll never stop loving you."

He scrunches up his nose. "You said you hated me. You insult me every time I see you… I spent most of my childhood alone, and when you would come home from your traveling, you just went and worked in your room." He coughs sickly. "So I would rather just die. Alone, like it's always been."

It takes me a moment, but I think of the perfect way to get him to believe me. "France and I are planning on getting a divorce. We had some disagreements. I hope that you'd still like to get married… If that offer still stands…"

"I'd be your second choice…"

I stand up, leaning over him. "I love you so much. I always have. I never thought that you would love me the same way, that's why I said 'yes' to France." I lie, leaning in closer.

"Really?" he breathes.

"Of course." I kiss him softly. He kisses back, and I can feel his lips turning up at the corners.

He touches my cheek when we pull away. "I love you…" his eyes flutter shut, as he falls asleep with a smile on his face.

I just lied to my little brother… I… Kissed him… I put the chair back in its rightful place, and head out of the room and down to the waiting room to wait for France to come and pick me up.

~Three weeks later, America's POV~

The hospital was letting me go home today. I had to come back every week so they could check up on my cancer, other than that, I was free! I had crutches because of my leg, but I was so excited to surprise England.

I opened the door, going inside of his house. I go toward the bedroom, opening the door. France jumps, pulling out of England. England rushes to cover them up with the comforter, bright-faced.

"Ameri-" England starts.

"You lied to me… You fucking lied to me…" I turn on my crutches, going back to the front door. I look back toward the bedroom, shaking my head in disbelief. I leave, managing to hail a cab and find a hotel to stay at. I lie on the bed, staring at the ceiling.

"You used me…" I scream into the pillow. "I'm so stupid!"

I cry into the pillow, feeling used. What was I? An idiot who believed whatever people told me. All of the times that England came to the hospital to visit me… Was all just a joke? I was alone again. I laugh sourly. "I'll always be alone. Nothing's ever going to change… I'll always be a naïve bastard who no one wants to be friends or family with…"

I hack, my stomach churning. I groan, running for the bathroom and emptying my stomach of all its contents.

~England's POV~

I get dressed, tying my shoes sloppily. France comes out of my room pouting. "Are we already done?" he asks, taking my arm as I stand up. "What did America mean when he said that you lied to him?"

I grind my teeth nervously. "Umm…"

He pushes me back into the chair. "Tell me."

I take in a deep breath. "I didn't think he would get out of the hospital… I told him you and I were getting divorced… and I told him that I loved him…"

France blinks. "…What?"

I look away. "I wanted to make him happy for the time that he was here…"

"So you cheated on me?"

I look at him with wide eyes. "No! Of course not!"

He frowns, taking a few steps back. "I think you need to think about who you really love. I'm going to sleep in a hotel tonight. Call me when you decide."

And just like that, he's gone and driving away.

**A.N.: Sorry that this chapter is so short and I took so long to get it posted! I promise it won't be as long for the next chapter! Please review, because I'm not sure if anyone likes this…**


End file.
